


Cities of Clouds

by angelboygabriel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, First Kiss, Fluff, Human AU, M/M, Pilot!Dean, architect!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:44:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelboygabriel/pseuds/angelboygabriel
Summary: Dean meets the most gorgeous and peculiar man he's ever seen in his life on a dreary afternoon in Seattle. He's made of iron and sparks and he's got eyes like liquid nitrogen. Castiel tells the man standing next to him he's beautiful. He's made of sky and clouds and mountains, and Castiel is going to make a city out of him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A new writing style I tried.  
> Feel free to continue or remix this ficlet as you like.

Castiel was gauzy like clouds and rain and the soft blanket at the bottom of Dean's bed. His eyes were liquid nitrogen and cobalt and only one hand on the wheel and Dean loved them, he loved him. The pencil strokes of his face and designs. Hands of an architect- literally. 

Castiel built miracles. 

Giant, swooping slopes of steel and glass, pillars of stone, slabs of marbled wood and jeweled inlays. Broken physics and beauty, just like him. 

Dean lived in the sky. 

He was a pilot, sitting in the clouds most days, while the others were spent in a loft in San Fransisco that belonged to an architect with too much heart and ardor and with too little touches and kisses for Dean's liking. He belonged to the sun; the horizon haunted him and he travelled endlessly. 

Dean was a fearsome kind of man, becoming a pilot simply because he was afraid of it but then growing to love it. He was all hard edges and angles, precise cuts with unmeasured decisions. He was cautiously reckless with everything, especially Castiel. 

The strange serendipity that caused them to meet was something of wonder: by both forgetting something they remembered something in return. They met in the Seattle airport on a dreary Sunday where there was nothing but cotton cirrus and mountains outside. Dean had been staring at the vastness outside after forgetting about his flight home, remembering for the first time how nothing ever really happened without reason. As soon as he thought that, the man next to him turned and abruptly said  
"You're beautiful."

Dean didn't know what to say. 

Castiel, on the other hand, had forgotten he had designed this very part of the airport and was staring at the wonderment of the elegant arches of glass and stone and had remembered it could not ever rival that of which was here before him. The mountains, the bay, and he turned and saw the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life. So he said so. He was that type of guy, and the man looked at him in astonishment. 

"Don't you hear that every day?" he asked and two jade eyes blinked at him. "No. That's not what normal people hear."

Castiel had laughed at that. 

"You're not normal."

"Neither are you."

Dean found him strange, so very very strange, yet home in an odd way. He said his name was Castiel and Dean asked if it was after the angel, or if he was the angel. Castiel smiled and took his hand, telling him he should decide for himself. Dean could only reply with his own name, and it rolled off Castiel's tongue with a flourish. 

It was the most peculiar day of Dean's life. 

And that peculiar day changed tangibly the following day when Castiel asked to show him the mountains and Dean agreed. He didn't have another flight to fly until next week. 

Castiel drove Dean to a small cove on the lake where they stood on the shore, quiet and alone. They stared at the splendor of the mountains and Castiel turned to Dean. 

"I know we've only just met but I feel like we have before." he said and Dean's eyes looked faraway. "I feel like I know you and I can't explain you. You're so mysterious." he said and Dean smiled. "That's because we barely know each other." he responded and Castiel shook his head. "That's not true. My soul knows yours." 

Dean had seemed to understand something at least, because a halfway longing look passed across his face and Castiel grabbed it. "I want to show you the mountains and sand." he said and he traced every last freckle he could see and touched every last contour of his face like it was the wing of a butterfly. 

Dean wasn't sure what to do but some deep understanding drove him. "I want to show you the sky." he said and that's when he kissed the man with sparks for eyes and explosions for hair. It wasn't much, just the smooth skate of lips on lips like the passing of clouds. He had only known this strange man for a day but it felt like his whole life. 

Castiel stared at him like he was on fire, and Dean had to look and make sure he wasn't. 

"Don't go." he asked. 

"I can't." Dean responded and he didn't. 

They talked for hours the next day about absolutely every last thing until each was engraved on the back of the other's hand. They stayed together on their odd little planet until Dean had to leave and so did Castiel. They promised to meet again soon and it felt like Dean was flying, which he really was, until he saw him again. Electric edged Castiel looking at Dean on his doorstep in San Fransisco. His loft was huge and wonderful, entire cities covering the walls and Dean stood in wonder, in this giant open space of another place. There were no rooms, just this one huge one, with a couch and TV and bed and kitchen underneath Chicago and a table beside Detroit with Athens sprawled across it. Castiel's designs were fabulous, and he quietly asked if he could build a city out of Dean. His hands slid up Dean's sides and his shirt fell to the ground, Dean staring with bizarre fascination as Castiel looked at him. 

He was an empire of a man and Castiel's hands skated reverently across his chest, before slowly pulling him down and grabbing a paper so he could draw. This city was tall, bold skyscrapers with hard angles and shiny surfaces, pocked by soft sweeps of parks speckling the landscape. Dean watched him as he drew, his face burning and then a particular museum reached out for him and Castiel realized it was Dean. He pulled Castiel's lips to his and muttered something about him being a psychotic genius. Castiel smiled obligingly and let himself fall against Dean, arms wrapped around the arms wrapped around him. And then he pulled away to design that, the Kiss, a glassy building with spiderwebs of iron beams that curved up sideways to the sky and ended off with a delicate pinnacle.   
Dean laughed and said he loved it. 

The next time Dean saw Castiel, he was standing amidst a flurry of construction, ground work stemming up from the ground. The chaos seemed so serene with him in the middle of it and when Dean asked what the building was, he simply said it was a moment. Dean believed it and didn't ask anymore, preferring to convince him to take off work early and come fly with him. 

They fit into a small twin engine at the local airport, Dean's grin all broad smiles as they took off and cruised through the endless blue for hours. Dean explained how the skies and the planes cutting them horrified him at one point, but now he had conquered that and it was nothing but freedom. Castiel nodded earnestly and put a ink-smudged hand on the glass of Dean's plane, leaving a navy handprint. When they landed, they both got out and Dean touched the handprint on the glass while Castiel idly watched. "You gonna hurry up, fly-boy?" he teased and Dean lit up. The nickname worked so well coming from Castiel. "Say that again." Dean said breathlessly. Castiel was crowded against the hangar walls and his hands fisted at Dean's leather jacket, muttering "fly boy" one more time before Dean kissed him within an inch of his life. 

The months interspersed into sporadic visits and Castiel found himself ticking off four since he'd met Dean. The new building swept into the night sky, finished in record time and Castiel couldn't be more proud. It was precisely as he imagined. Dean was there when he showed him, tears pricking at his eyes as he recognized the familiar sweep. 

"It's me. The kiss."

Castiel smiled shyly and grabbed his hand. 

"It's ours. The us."

Dean looked like he was fading into stars that's how Castiel knew he found a happy ending in the man he had known so little yet so long.


End file.
